


You Can't Always Get What You Want

by DarkHeartInTheSky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Post-Season/Series 11, Sad Castiel, Set somewhere in season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:18:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8290676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHeartInTheSky/pseuds/DarkHeartInTheSky
Summary: "I think I hate him," Cas says.





	

               “So,” Dean coughs awkwardly into his fist. In front of him is a cup of coffee that is gradually becoming lukewarm. “So, you got to see your dad.”

                “Yes,” Cas says, looking down at his own cup.

                Dean forces himself to take a large gulp of his coffee. It tastes like blood as it creeps down his throat like molasses. “That’s…neat.”

                Cas is silent for a moment. “I think I hate him.”

                Dean thinks of the Castiel who searched the cosmos looking for someone who didn’t want to be found; of the Castiel who believed when no else did, believed against all the odds; of the Castiel who looked up to the sky, eyes burning with such agony, it was like a knife to Dean’s gut. He thought of the Castiel who looked at him with such pain swimming in his eyes, in that moment looking the most human Dean had ever seen him, and asked, “How do you stand it?”

                Dean is aware that somewhere in the bunker is his mother—alive. His mother that cares about him, and loves him, even though they’re technically strangers at this point.

                And sitting before him is Castiel, who only ever wanted to meet his father.

                And what happened?

                The guy wouldn’t even look at him. Wouldn’t acknowledge his most loyal son.

                Hatred is not the opposite of love, Dean thinks. The opposite of love is indifference. If you hate someone, you still care about them. At least a little.

                But God wouldn’t even look at Cas.

                The silence is painful. Cas forces a sip of his coffee, just to be doing something, Dean thinks.

                “Good,” Dean says. “Serves him right.”

                Cas nods, but Dean still thinks he sees tears that won’t ever fall in Cas’s eyes.


End file.
